


but by this good day, I yield upon great persuasion

by bookoftheazuresky



Category: Tales of Graces
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Cunnilingus, F!Asbel, F/F, Weddings, implied threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-10 04:37:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7830598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookoftheazuresky/pseuds/bookoftheazuresky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lady Knight Asbel Lhant had faced down more monsters in the last few years than most people ever wanted to see in their entire lives. Put her in a wedding dress, and she started getting a little wild around the eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	but by this good day, I yield upon great persuasion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DivineMadness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DivineMadness/gifts).



> I've always wondered how differently the game might have played out if Asbel was a girl rather than a boy. Someday I might really get into working it out.
> 
> This was written for DivineMadness on the occasion of her graduation. We talked about how we really liked ladies in formalwear getting some, from which this whole fic was born.
> 
> Title is from Much Ado About Nothing.

Cheria straightened her Windor green dress for a final time, checking her makeup in the mirror. She’d gotten ready early- as Asbel’s maid of honor, she would need to head danger off if it appeared. She wasn’t _anticipating_ anything happening, but Asbel had already hared off one time too many for Cheria’s taste.

And since it was _Asbel_ , Cheria rather doubted she’d be too put off by the idea of escaping from the altar if need be.

She twitched the heavily embroidered shoulder straps until they were even on either side. The golden patterns turned her hair more ruddy than usual, pulled back as it was by a heavy golden clasp.

Last of all, she patted at her thigh, making sure that her dagger sheaths were firmly anchored and invisible to any examination. Just because she wasn’t _anticipating_ anything happening didn’t mean that she should be underprepared.

Satisfied, she exited her room. Time to go help prepare the bride.

~

Lady Knight Asbel Lhant had faced down more monsters in the last few years than most people ever wanted to see in their entire lives. Put her in a wedding dress, and she started getting a little wild around the eyes.

Cheria had noticed this tendency during the dress fittings, which was why Cheria had been present for nearly all of them. This bastion of familiarity- Cheria had been helping Asbel with her clothes since they were literally children- was normally enough to downgrade her tension to normal pre-wedding jitters. Unfortunately, not this time.

Cheria briskly shooed out the chattering, giggling maids, taking advantage of her status as Asbel’s childhood friend to claim the preparation of hair and makeup for herself. She shut the door firmly behind them and sighed out a breath of relief.

Then, she firmly gripped the other woman’s shoulders and sat her down on the divan. Asbel went a little stiffly, like her joints had frozen up. Her blue and violet eyes were a little too wide, her breathing too shallow. Most tellingly, she hadn’t said more than a handful of words to Cheria the whole time they were getting her dressed. Cheria checked her pulse experimentally, and found it too fast. Hmmm. This probably called for desperate measures.

She leaned in and brushed her lips across Asbel’s. She kissed lightly along Asbel’s lower lip, keeping her movements slow and easy. The redhead responded, tilting her head up so give Cheria better access. Cheria cupped Asbel’s face, keeping her breathing slow and steady as they kissed the slow kisses of lovers who had all of time.

When Cheria pulled back, Asbel blinked up at her with more attention than she had previously showed, but her shoulders were still one solid block of tension.

“Shouldn’t I be getting ready?” Asbel asked, her voice high and nervous even after Cheria’s intervention.

“We’ve got plenty of time. Don’t worry about it,” Cheria told her. Decision made, she pushed Asbel back until she was reclining against the arm of the divan, the shimmering white of her skirts spread around her. She reflected that it was a good thing that the dress they had chosen had slits in the skirts as she flipped the overlayer off the edge of the furniture, then gathered the underskirts and gave them the same treatment. Asbel’s long, shapely legs in their silken thigh-highs and the curve of her hips under a layer of lace were exposed in front of her.

“Cheria!” Asbel said, scandalized. “What are you doing?”

“You’re not going to get through the ceremony like this.” Cheria rubbed a thumb against the lacy top of the stockings, then slid her hand upward to hook into the band of Asbel’s panties. “You’re going to faint, and then where will Richard be?” She smiled up at the catastrophically blushing redhead, whose hands had gone to cover her face. Asbel’s gorgeous eyes were wide with an entirely different emotion now. “Don’t worry,” Cheria said in her best ‘in charge’ voice, the one that sent relief workers and local government officials alike scattering to do her bidding, “just let me take care of it.”

Asbel made a strangled sound she took as assent. Cheria pulled down her panties and tossed them onto a nearby chair. Secure in the knowledge that the heavy silk of the wedding gown would bounce back easily, she pushed Asbel’s skirts up until they were around her waist, leaving her bare except for the thigh-highs. A swift arrangement of her own dress later, and Cheria was kneeling between Asbel’s spread legs.

She had Asbel clutching at the edges of the divan with a few well-placed swipes of her tongue, and then a few more, licking up any wetness that might stain the dress. Before long, Asbel was dragging in heaving breaths, her muscled thighs flexing with the effort not to move. Cheria alternated between broad swipes of her tongue and sucking at Asbel’s clit, a strategy guaranteed to bring the other woman to orgasm as swiftly as possible.

She could feel Asbel’s body going tenser and tenser, tracking her progress through the rigidity in the knight’s thighs under her grip. Bitten-off sounds were spilling from Asbel’s lips as she panted; she could hear the edges of her name. It sent a shiver down Cheria’s spine, an undeniable feeling of accomplishment that Asbel yielded to her so easily and eagerly.

Cheria lapped up her slickness, sliding her tongue deeper until Asbel made a thin sound and came, her whole body seizing up. Cheria worked her through it until she was shaking, dragging out the pleasure for as long as possible. She didn’t let up until Asbel was panting for her to _stop, please, please Cheria_ …

She pulled back to look at her work. Asbel was sprawled across the divan in an attitude of unmistakable debauchery, flushed in a line from the top of her breasts above the dress to her cheeks. Her thighs were still trembling, one hand clutched desperately at the top of the divan with the other hooked behind the arm. Her eyes were glazed over as her head fell back to gasp in air.

Cheria wiped her face on one of the towels kept with the water pitcher, then went to work cleaning up, reminding herself that she would have to redo her own makeup later.

~

When she let the maids back in, Asbel was perfectly squared away, sitting with her hands in her lap with her hair and makeup done. Her expression was dreamily vacant, her cheeks slightly flushed even under the layer of cosmetics Cheria had expertly applied.

Cheria graciously allowed the maids to put on the veil as she quickly put on a fresh layer of lipstick.

“You look gorgeous,” she told Asbel, taking one gloved hand and pulling the knight and soon-to-be queen to her feet.

She rather thought Asbel blushed more deeply behind her veil. “Thanks, Cheria.”

~

When Richard gravely thanked her for his wedding present at the banquet later, Lord Hubert Lhant had an unfortunate coughing fit into his champagne. When Pascal asked him concernedly what was wrong (after an over-enthusiastic whack by the engineer extended the fit unpleasantly), he choked out, “Nothing.”

He certainly wasn’t going to admit he’d seen the smug smirk that had spread over Cheria’s face at King Richard’s words!


End file.
